Sisterhood
by hrhprincessrachel
Summary: An account of Mary and Sybil's growing bond from beginning to painful end. It's a sisterhood that has seen laughs, grief, encouragement, devastation, and love. Even though it was short for Mary, it lasted a lifetime for Sybil. Read and Review! *dates fixed!*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As you can tell, I've been in a very Downton mood recently, probably due to the fact that I've been rewatching it with my sister from season one. This is going to be kind of like a timeline of Sybil and Mary's relationship that will eventually lead into the series. Enjoy!**

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**July 1895**

The shrill sound of a baby crying resounded throughout the household, and the two eldest Crawley sisters looked at each other in excitement. The service staff, although supposed to be carrying on with their everyday work, were crowded around the doors to Lord and Lady Grantham's room, right behind the soon-to-be older sisters.

"Is it a girl, O'Brien?" three year old Mary Crawley asked whilst jumping up and down. A young Sarah O'Brien shrugged.

"We'll see. Your father would rather it be a boy, but girls seem to have been on the menu the past two instances." She mumbled the last part so that Mary would not hear, although it would have gone over her head anyway. O'Brien bent down and picked up one year old Edith Crawley, who was attempting and failing to stand on her own. It had been a shock to all of them when the Countess of Grantham had gone into labor so early; after all, she was not due for another three weeks.

Mary looked up at Carson and tugged on his sleeve. "Carson, Carson, Carson, when are we going to meet the baby?"

Carson smiled and looked down at the small brunette. Edith was quiet and well behaved, but even so, he'd always had a favoritism towards Lady Mary. "It won't be long now, m'lady."

Just then, the door opened, and on the other side stood the proud Lord Grantham. "Edith, Mary, come meet your new sister," he said, his eyes glistening with oncoming tears of joy. _That's as far as they'll get_, Mrs. Hughes, the head of the housemaids, thought to herself as she smiled. Lord Grantham was not one to cry.

Mary walked briskly to her mother's bedside, and Lord Grantham took Edith from O'Brien and brought her in as well. Cora was breathing heavily, looking down at the crying baby girl with such a love that only a mother can feel.

She finally looked up at the rest of her family. "Mary, Edith," she said to her two eldest daughters, "this is Sybil, your little sister."

Robert chuckled. "She looks just like you, Mary, the hair and everything."

Mary reached over and held her new younger sister's hand. She was not aware of it at the moment, but it marked the beginning of a sisterhood that would end up lasting very short for Mary, but would be lifelong for Sybil.

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**A/N: sorry it was so short, but it was kind of just the intro. Read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Woohoo another chapter! Read and review! **

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**1897**

"Mama!" five year old Lady Mary Crawley shouted from the top of the staircase. "Mama, come quickly!"

In her room, Lady Grantham was startled by the urgent tone of her eldest daughter's calling. She glanced towards two year old Sybil, playing in the corner with a few toys that Rosamund had sent as belated second birthday presents.

Cora sighed. "O'Brien, would you be a doll and go check on Mary? She sounds awfully upset."

O'Brien put one last bobby pin in Cora's hair to secure it tightly. "If you want to go check, I could watch over Sybil. It really isn't a problem, m'lady."

Cora smiled up at her handmaid. "That's okay, I'd rather watch over Sybil. She's getting quite adventurous lately; I wouldn't want to trouble you with her. And Mary's getting to the age where everything must be a dramatic scene, so I'm sure it's nothing."

"Yes, m'lady," O'Brien mumbled. She cursed to herself quietly as she closed Lady Grantham's bedroom door.

"Ms. O'Brien, I know you weren't referring to Her Ladyship in those words," a deep voice resonated behind her. The countess's handmaid turned around slowly, praying that it was not Lord Grantham. Fortunately, it was only Carson.

"My apologies, Mr. Carson," she mumbled as she headed for the girls' rooms. "It was nothing. Her Ladyship asked me to check on Lady Mary."

Carson nodded. "I see. I'll be in my office should you need anything."

O'Brien did not reply as she turned back around and made her way to the sound of Lady Mary's shouting. "Mama, Mama, where are you? Come quickly, please!"

"What's the matter, m'lady?" O'Brien asked the five year old in monotone. The fact that she had to refer to a spoiled little girl that was less than a sixth of her age as "m'lady" disgusted her to her core.

The teary-eyed brunette sniffed. "O'Brien, where's Mama?"

"She's watching over Lady Sybil, m'lady. She sent me to see what was wrong."

Mary sniffed. "Edith is being mean. She scratched my arm," she cried, shoving up her dress sleeve to reveal a small red scrape no longer than a fingernail.

O'Brien was equally amused and annoyed with Mary's dramatics. "I'm sure Lady Edith did not mean to hurt you. She's only three years old, you know."

Mary stomped her small foot on the ground. "Everyone always sides with Edith. No one ever takes my side. Not even Mama. She doesn't care, she's too busy with Sybil all the time."

O'Brien was antsy to get away from the angry little girl. "Maybe yo should talk to your Mama about it. She'll reassure you that you are just as loved as Lady Edith and Lady Sybil."

Mary huffed but obliged, running across the house to her mother's bedroom. O'Brien, satisfied, rushed back downstairs before another Crawley asked a favor of her.

Mary burst into her mother's room. Lady Grantham calmly turned around and smiled. "Mary, I thought we taught you that it's rather rude to enter without knocking."

"Sorry," Mary mumbled. "Mama, do you love Sybil more than me?"

Cora looked up at her eldest daughter, appalled. "Of course not, Mary, I love all of you very much."

Mary sniffed. "But why do you spend more time with Sybil?"

Cora patted a spot on the bed next to her for Mary to sit down. "Mary, darling, Sybil is still too young to do things on her own. She needs my help, and your father's. You are a big girl now, and I'm very proud of you for being so independent." The both looked over at two year old Sybil, who was wobbling across the room. Ever since she'd learned to walk she'd been harder to catch than ever. "Mary, Sybil is your little sister," Cora began. For once, Mary was silent. "You have to promise that you'll look after her, and help her if she needs it in the future. You two have to stick together. You're the oldest, and that gives you many responsibilities, including helping Sybil learn how to do things. You have to be a role model for her, understand?"

Mary sighed. "Yes, Mama. May I leave now?"

Cora smiled. "Of course."

Mary closed the door slowly and then sprinted towards her own room. She knew it wasn't ladylike to do so, but she had to move quickly. She grabbed one of her larger bags and threw some clothes inside. Inside of her small head, her young brain was racing for what else she needed to pack. _Food_, she thought, _and I'll need money_.

Mary had never been downstairs in the servants' and maids' corridors, but she knew that it was necessary to get the things she needed. Her large brown eyes grew even wider when she opened the door to the stairs going downwards; she was intrigued to know what went on while the service were not serving and dressing her family.

She was rather disappointed, however, when she saw that the walls were not as intricately decorated as the ones upstairs were; in fact, they were not decorated at all. No paintings of old people, no impressive chandeliers. Mary's thin eyebrows rose, but she shook her head and continued onwards.

She followed the delicious smell of chicken and eventually came across the kitchen. Luckily, Mrs. Patmore was nowhere to be seen. She opened every cupboard and finally settled on a few rolls. _I can buy some more food later, when I get to the village_, she decided.

But then came the problem that was money: where was she to get any? She most certainly could not steal; that was not an option.

But she could always ask.

She found her way to Carson's office; he had always been her favorite. He was always very nice to her, whereas the rest of the staff seemed very short with her at times. She contemplated knocking but knew she hadn't the time. She opened the door and stepped in.

Carson looked up from his paperwork and was taken aback. "Lady Mary?"

She stood up as straight as she could. "Mr. Carson, I've decided to run away, and I wonder if I might take some of the silver to sell."

Mr. Carson processed this for a moment and then resisted the urge to chuckle. "Well, that could be very awkward for His Lordship. Suppose I give you sixpence to spend in the village instead?"

Mary shrugged. "Very well," she said. Then she remembered something that her father said about the integrity of purchasing things. "But you must make sure to charge me interest."

Carson smiled. "That won't be necessary, my lady," he said kindly.

"Well, I must pay you back," she said, troubled. She walked over to Carson and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you ever so much, Carson," Mary said excitedly, skipping out of the room. "I'll be sure to visit you when I am older!"

Carson chuckled when she left the room. He knew she would not get very far, what with the handmaids running around to get the dining room ready before dinner. He could not seem to shake the smile from his aging face.

Mary threw the money into her bag with the rolls and crumpled clothes. She snuck past the hurrying servants and butlers to the front door and slipped outside before anyone could see her.

Mary's little heart was pounding a mile a minute. She'd done it; she'd gotten out of the house unnoticed. She began to grow more nervous as she stepped onto the gravel in front of the massive estate.

As she began to walk, Mary saw a small figure leaning against the wall with its hands, far on the other side of Downton Abbey, near one of the side doors. She squinted; it looked the size of a toddler...

"Sybil!" Mary gasped. What was her sister doing outside, without guidance? Mary dropped her bag and ran over to her adventurous younger sister. "What on earth are you doing out here?" She took Sybil's hand and led her to the door to the study. "Papa must have left it open," she figured aloud. She sat down on one of the study's couches and Sybil followed suit, climbing up onto the couch.

"You scared me half to death, sis you know that?" Mary said sternly, copying the tone her mother used often.

Sybil shrugged. "Sowwy, Mawy," she said, and leaned over to give her older sister a hug. Mary wrapped her arms around her and put her chin on top of her head.

Carson walked into the room. He smiled when he saw the scene playing out before him. "Lady Mary? I thought you'd be gone by now."

Mary shook her head. "I've decided that I'm not going to run away anymore."

Carson grinned. "Good for you, m'lady. Now, let's get you upstairs so that O'Brien can get you dressed for dinner."

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**A/N: You may have noticed that the part where Mary is talking to Carson is actually from the show; Carson talks about it with Mrs. Hughes when he's telling her why Lady Mary's always been his favorite. I thought it'd be fun to incorporate it into the story. Review! Thanks for reading :) Another chapter soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

***newly added chapter: read!***

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**1900**

"The estate is beyond beautiful, Lord Grantham," the Duke of Wellsborough nodded at the Earl of Grantham. Robert grinned and raised his champagne glass; he never got tired of compliments, particularly ones aimed towards Downton, his life's work. He tried not to pay much attention to his sweltering legs in his suit. The only reason he'd agreed to the summer garden party was to please Cora, but she could not have picked a worse day: beads of sweat were forming on even the women's foreheads.

"How old are the girls now, Lord Grantham?" another noble asked over the soothing sounds of the violin in the background.

Lord Grantham looked around for his daughters, the only things he took more pride in than Downton itself. "Ah, I can't seem to find where they are. Chasing after Sybil, I presume. She turned five last week. Edith is six, and Mary is eight."

"Eight years old already? Goodness me," the nobleman's wife sighed. In the midst of searching for his daughters, Lord Grantham spotted Cora, sitting under the tent and staring off into the field with a smile on her delicate face. To what she was smiling at he had no idea, as the large fir trees obscured his vision.

"Excuse me for a moment," he pardoned. He walked briskly over to his wife.

"What ever are you so happy about on this ghastly summer afternoon?" Lord Grantham chuckled. Cora laughed and pointed her chin towards three small figures, all in dresses, walking through the vast field.

"I just love to watch them," she marveled, absentmindedly toying with the bottom of her necklace.

Lord Grantham squinted. "Do that too long and you'll hurt your eyesight. It's brighter than heaven out here."

Cora remained smiling but sighed. "Oh, Robert, it's a mother thing, I suppose. There's no greater joy than seeing your children getting along with each other. Although, I must say, it seems Mary and Sybil are getting along with each other more than they are with Edith."

Lord Grantham watched his daughters along with his wife and instantly understood what she meant.

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"Look at what I found," Mary boasted, triumphantly holding up a small, round flower.

"What is that?" Sybil inquired, looking up in wonder at the flower. It was hard to call it a flower, however, because it was unlike any flower Sybil had ever seen.

Edith snatched it from her older sister. "It's a dandelion, that's what. And I'm the one who found it."

"A lion? That's silly, Edith, lions are very much bigger."

Edith rolled her eyes. Mary snatched it back and turned to Sybil, smiling. "If you blow on it very hard, all of these little bristles will fly off. You're supposed to make a wish before you blow, and afterwards it will come true."

Sybil's eyes were wide. "I wanna."

Mary began to hand it to her youngest sister, but Edith took the dandelion back before she could. "I pointed it out to you, Mary, I get to blow it."

Mary yanked Edith aside. "No. Sybil is the youngest, so let her do it. Be mature, Edith."

Edith looked at the dandelion lovingly. "I haven't blown one in so long, Mary, please?"

"_No._"

But it was too late; there were already small, fuzzy pieces floating around in the small summer breeze. Mary opened her mouth wide, astonished. Edith looked frightened at first, but then crossed her arms invincibly.

"You aren't the boss of me."

Mary's face turned red. "I hope your wish was that I would not kill you."

Edith scoffed. "It's only a dandelion, Mary."

Just then, Sybil began to cry. She did not wail or scream; her mother had warned her time and time again that that kind of crying was for babies. Instead, she sniffed as tears began to roll down her cheeks, and the occasional sob was let out. "I wanted to do it."

"See what you've done?" Mary sighed. She began searching frantically, whipping her head back and forth, scanning the large field. "Edith, help me."

"I don't have to if I don't want to."

Finally, after a few minutes, she finally found another dandelion. Its stem was wilted and it was smaller than most, but Mary was willing to take anything. Anything to make her sister stop crying.

She ran over to Sybil, who was sitting in the grassy field, sniffing. Tears were dripping off of her chin. Mary knelt down and handed the dandelion to her sister. She remembered what her Mama had told her a few years before: she needed to help take care of Sybil. Mary figured that part of it meant making her happy, not letting her cry.

"Here you go, darling," Mary said, patting Sybil on the head. Her crying ceased, and Mary used her dress sleeve to wipe off any extra tears from her cheeks. Sybil took a deep breath and blew. She watched in awe as the dandelion fuzz spread through the air, dancing about.

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**A/N: okay, so, sorry for the shortness of it. I screwed up some dates BIG TIME and even though I know that most of you don't care, I am a huge perfectionist, so I stuck this chapter in here and changed the other dates and yeah. NOthing else in the story has changed, I promise, just a few dates. I wrote this really quick as a filler but I actually kind of like it :) thanks for your patience. review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**1902**

All around the estate, every maid and even the footmen were bustling to finish cleaning up the messes around the house from the new year's party the night before. It wasn't just a regular dinner party; it was the turning of a new year, the second one in the millenium. Needless to say, the Crawleys had invited more than just the Dowager Countess to Downton for the celebration.

"Good morning, Carson," Lord Grantham half-yawned as he entered the dining room, taking a plate from the stack and serving himself from the buffet.

"Good morning, my lord," Carson recited. "I hope you don't mind me asking, my lord, but have Mr. Crawley and his family stayed overnight?"

Lord Grantham nodded. "Indeed, they have. I hope you don't mind, but it was far too late to call for the chauffer. We had O'Brien and another ladiesmaid make up some rooms, I'm not sure if you were aware."

Carson nodded. "No trouble at all, m'lord. They'll be joining us for breakfast, then?"

Before he could answer, eleven year old Patrick Crawley entered the dining room. "Good morning, Cousin Robert," he greeted Lord Grantham in a mature tone. Lord Grantham held back a chuckle; it was amusing to watch the future heir to the earldom act so manly with a voice that had yet to deepen.

"Good morning, Cousin Patrick. I hope you found your room to be most accommodating. My apologies for anything that was overlooked; it was a very last-minute decision."

Patrick shook his head primly as if he were an Earl already. "None at all. It was very nice."

Edith and Sybil walked in just then, tired expressions on their faces. "Good morning, Papa," they said in unison. Edith blushed when she saw Patrick walking over to place his plate on the table. She rushed to get her breakfast so that she could claim the spot next to Patrick.

"Good morning, girls. Mary's not joining us?"

Seven year old Sybil shook her head. "No, she said that she wants a tray brought up to her this morning."

Lord Grantham grinned. "She's beginning to take after her mother. Is she ill or just tired?"

Edith rolled her eyes. "She was upset about something. She yelled at me to go away."

"Maybe that's because you told her she was being lazy," Sybil argued. Edith scoffed, but then composed herself to impress Patrick.

While Lord Grantham read telegrams, Sybil excused herself. Something about her oldest sister's tone earlier that morning was off, and Sybil wondered if she was ill after all. Mary usually could tell before anyone else when Sybil was coming down with something, and Sybil wondered if the talent had reciprocated.

After the long journey up the stairs, she knocked on Mary's door. "Mary," she called in her somewhat high-pitched little girl's voice. "Mary, all you alright?"

"Who is it?" the ten year old called weakly from the other side.

"Sybil."

"Is Edith with you?"

"No, it's only me."

After a moment, the door opened and there stood Mary, her hair still down in a braid and her nightgown still on. She stepped aside for Sybil to enter and then closed the door.

"Papa thinks you're starting to take after Mama, having breakfast in bed," Sybil said, sitting at the foot of the bed while Mary climbed back into the covers. Her tray remained beside her, untouched. "Are you ill?" Sybil asked.

Mary shook her head. "No, but I think I will be." She grabbed Sybil's small hand. "If I tell you something, do you swear to keep it secret?"

"Cross my heart," Sybil promised eagerly. She loved secrets.

Mary sighed. "Last night I overheard Granny talking to Papa and Cousin James. They were talking about me and Cousin Patrick getting married."

"Married? Of course not, Mary, you're only ten."

Mary scoffed. "Not now, silly, when we're older. But it sounds like it's already finalized. We aren't engaged, but we will be."

"But why? I thought you found Patrick annoying."

"I do," Mary said, her eyes glistening with oncoming tears. "I can't stand him. And probably because he's the next heir of Downton, after Papa and Cousin James."

Although she was only seven, Sybil could feel her sister's grief and was desperate to help her. "Don't worry, Mary. Even if you have to marry Patrick one day, it'll be when you're older. Not all boys stay immature forever. I'm sure Patrick will have grown up by then."

Mary let out a small sob as she began to cry. Sybil ran over to the dressing table and got her a handkerchief from one of the drawers. "I want to marry someone I like," she cried. Sybil patted her shoulder. She hadn't ever been in this position before: it was usually Mary or her mother that comforted _her_, not the other way around.

"Who're you marrying?" Edith asked loudly, barging in the door.

"Edith, you don't have to be so nosy all of the time," Sybil said to her eight year old sister.

"Were you spying on us?" Mary asked angrily.

"I couldn't help but overhear," the redhead shrugged. "Anyways, now that I know, who're you marrying?"

"She isn't getting married yet," Sybil said. "Not for a good long while."

"Yes, but her future husband's been arranged," Edith pressed. "Who is it?"

"It really isn't any of your business," Sybil smarted. Mary sniffed into the handkerchief.

"Oh, and it's yours? Tell me or I'll tell Mama you're keeping secrets."

"Who else in the house is my age, Edith? Use that small brain of yours!" Mary yelled between sobs.

Edith gasped after a moment. "You... you don't mean Cousin Patrick?"

"What do you know, you _can_ think," Mary mumbled, her crying having slowed.

Edith's face fell. "Oh. If you... if you don't like him, you shouldn't have to marry him. Let him marry somebody that he likes."

"Like I have a choice, Edith, it sounded like Papa and Cousin James and Granny already agreed on it." Mary put her face in her hands.

Sybil patted her back. "Remember the story Mama told us? About how she and Papa weren't fond of each other when they were married, but then they fell in love? Maybe it'll be that way for you and Patrick."

"Patrick should marry someone that already loves him," Edith chimed in.

Mary looked up angrily. "We all know you have a crush on him, Edith, so stop trying to make this harder than it already is. Please get out of my room."

Edith huffed but obliged, slamming the door on her way out. Mary turned back to Sybil. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, Sybil. I just don't want to fall in love with Patrick, is all."

Sybil nodded. "I'll leave you to finish your breakfast."

Mary shook her head. "No, no, stay. Don't have much of an appetite at the moment, anyways."

Sybil walked over to Mary's side of the bed and wrapped her arms around her. Mary did the same, resting her cheek on top of her sister's head as she always did. "Mama always says that everything looks better in the morning, only it's morning and everything is looking worse." Sybil did not know what to say, so she said nothing. Instead, she sat down in the comfortable chair next to Mary's bed, dangling her feet to see if she could touch the ground yet. She felt the tip of her sandal brush against the carpet and smiled to herself. Mary began to eat her toast, and the crunching sounds were the only noise in the room for a while.

"Ask me something," Mary finally said. Sybil cocked her head in confusion. "Ask me why things are how they are, like you always do," she clarified.

"Why?"

"I like answering," Mary shrugged.

"Okay, let me think," Sybil said as she wracked her brain for something she often asked herself. She always asked questions; it was a phase that most children grew out of by age seven, but Sybil had yet to do so. She finally found one. "Why can't girls wear pants?"

Mary laughed. "What do you mean?"

Sybil shrugged. "Men wear pants and girls have to wear dresses all the time. What I want to know is why."

Mary shrugged. "That's just the way the world works, I suppose."

Sybil sighed. "That wasn't a very good answer even though you say you like to answer my questions."

Mary put her toast down. "I suppose I really don't know the answer. It's like asking why trees have leaves or why houses have walls. They just do."

"Hm," Sybil said in thought. Mary could see the little wheels in her mind spinning rapidly and she chuckled. "You'd better get downstairs before Cousin Patrick and Cousin James leave. I don't think they'll be staying for luncheon."

"Are you going to ring for Vera to get you ready before then?" Sybil asked as she stood up.

Mary shook her head. "No. I don't really want to see Patrick today, to be honest. It's too weird. Will you tell a fib to Papa that I'm feeling ill?"

Sybil nodded. "Yes. I'll try to make sure Edith doesn't say anything." Before she closed the door, she poked her head back into the room. "Mary?"

"Hm?" Mary asked as she wrapped herself back up in the covers, trying her best to look sick.

"I really, really hope you get to marry someone that you like."

Mary smiled sadly. "Me too."

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**A/N: hey guys... thanks to whoever is actually reading this story. I'm really excited about writing the rest of it, but it's kind of discouraging and frustrating when I don't get any reviews :( So if you read this story, could you please drop by a little review? Even just to tell me if you liked it or not. Thanks so much :) Hope you're liking it so far.**


	5. Chapter 5

**1905**

Two brunettes sat in the library, and not a word passed between them. Immersed in their own novels, they travelled to worlds far away from their own. It had always been a mutual agreement between them: never interrupt the other from their reading unless it was absolutely necessary.

Sybil read through the very last words of _Julius Caesar _and then set the book down on the table. Mary noticed and closed her copy of _The Aeneid. _Classic Roman literature had always fascinated her, but she knew that Sybil would have questions. Although Sybil was very advanced for being ten years old, she was bound to be confused by some of the plot devices used in Shakespearean plays, and she wanted to be there to answer them.

"Done already, darling?" Mary asked when Sybil hadn't said anything.

Sybil nodded. "I still don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why they would go to such extremes. To kill Caesar, I mean. It was chilling, really. But why?"

In her head, Mary sifted through the hundreds of books she'd read in her spare time to try and remember the reasonings behind Caesar's dramatic killing. She became angry with herself when she discovered that she could not remember. "Well, for starters, it's a play. It's meant to be dramatic."

Sybil laughed and lightly pushed her sister's arm. "I know that. I mean... Why did Brutus give in so easily? And even when he knew that he was betraying his biggest benefactor, he still was the last one to stab him. How could you do a thing like that?"

"Enough greed and peer pressure could make anyone blind."

Mary picked up _The Aeneid _and continued reading. Sybil sighed and watched her sister intently. She never smiled, like she always used to. She didn't do things just because anymore. Sybil knew that the teenage years changed you, but she didn't want Mary to change quite yet.

"Mary?" she asked, and then followed up with a, "Sorry, never mind," when she realized she had broken the rule between them. Mary raised one eyebrow and then set the book back down again.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," she said, nodding for Mary to continue reading.

"It's something, I can tell from your tone," Mary said. "Tell me."

Sybil shook her head, standing up. "It's nothing, really. I'm going to go find Edith. You keep reading."

Mary stood up and followed her. "Sybil." Sybil stopped and turned around. Mary put a hand on her shoulder. "Darling, what's the matter? You can tell me."

Sybil closed her eyes. "Do you ever think of... death, Mary?"

Mary sighed; she shouldn't have urged her younger sister to read a book with such dark themes. It was irresponsible of her; no matter how mature Sybil was for her age, she was still only ten. But it was too late to do anything now. "I think everyone does, dear."

"But, do you ever think of what happens _after_ death?" Sybil inquired. "Do you really believe in God, or do you think there may be multiple gods? Sometimes, I'm not quite sure. Or, what if there's no God at all, and after death there's nothing?"

Mary was growing impatient with Sybil's questions; not because they themselves were bothering her, but because for once, she could not think of answers. "Sybil, grow up," she said earnestly. "Nobody wonders about those things in real life."

Sybil looked down, embarrassed. Mary instantly felt like an awful older sister. She wrapped her arms around Sybil. She was her guardian and protector from the real world, but sooner or later Sybil had to come to reality. And if Mary was being honest with herself, she did not want her to.

"Oh, darling, I'm sorry, that was rude of me." Sybil hugged her back. Mary hadn't hugged her little sister in a long time; in fact, she hadn't hugged anyone in a long time. It felt nice.

"You know," she said softly, "I don't think we should worry about death. We need to worry about one thing at a time, and first comes life." She felt Sybil nod, and then she pulled away, smiling to reassure her sister.

"You haven't done that in a while," Sybil said, her innocent smile warming Mary's heart.

"Done what, smile?" Mary chuckled. They walked back into the library, and Sybil started looking for a new book to read.

Sybil nodded as she ran her fingers along the spines. "Well, yes, that. But you put your cheek on my head, when you hugged me. You haven't done that in years."

Mary tried to remember the last time she'd shown affection towards anyone in her family, and was instantly ashamed when she realized it had been a good while. She began to think about life and death again. Sybil's faint humming as she looked through the titles she hadn't read was the only noise in the room. One of the kitchen maids had passed away weeks before, and her Papa forced them to go to the funeral although the three girls hadn't met nor seen her. One of the maid's brothers spoke at the service, and he talked a great deal about never knowing when your time was up. At the time, Mary had to resist rolling her eyes or yawning, but now it made more sense in her head.

"Sybil?"

"Mhmm?"

"Forget what I said earlier. I didn't mean it, darling."

Sybil cocked her head, her back still turned to her sister as she looked for a book to read. "You said a lot of things earlier."

Mary sat down on the couch and dwindled her thumbs; it was a habit that Granny was insistent on breaking. "Never stop wondering about things. Please. Don't change."

Sybil turned around, a knowing look on her face. "Trust me, Mary, I wasn't planning on it. You can't break me that easily, you know."

For the rest of the afternoon, Mary sat quietly, watching Sybil. The way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she began to chew on a fingernail and then jerked it away from her mouth in an attempt to break the habit. She remembered how they sat on the exact same couch nine years ago, after Mary had saved her youngest sister from possibly getting hurt. In that moment, she realized that she could not imagine life had Sybil not been born. She couldn't imagine fending for herself with only Edith to play with.

She and Sybil needed each other.

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**A/N: thanks so much for reviewing last chapter :) review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, I need to clarify what all went on the other day. So, I'm obviously terrible at math, because I completely screwed up the dates in chapters 3 and 4. I know a lot of you could care less, but I am the biggest perfectionist ever, so I went in and changed them. Then I realized that because of this, there was a huge gap in time between two chapters, and I didn't want that. I want this story to be gradual, not skipping all over the place, so I decided to write up another chapter that happened in between that age gap. I replaced the chapter 3 document with the new one, then made chapter 4 what chapter 3 originally was, and made chapter 5 what chapter 4 originally was. Okay, I just read over that and it's really confusing. Bottom line is, if you've been reading this since before yesterday (5/6), you haven't missed anything else except for a little filler chapter I stuck in to ease my anxiety. It's chapter 3 now. If you want to, you can go read it. I kind of like it :) it's pretty short. **

**Anyways, sorry about the screw up. It's all fixed now. On with the story :)**

* * *

**1907**

Ms. Anna Smith followed diligently behind the three Crawley sisters and their mother. She fell in step with Ms. O'Brien, Lady Grantham's ladiesmaid. She hadn't been working at Downton Abbey very long (no more than a year), but she'd learned very quickly that O'Brien was not the kind of person to make small talk. So instead, the twenty-one year old kept to herself and watched the heads of the Crawley girls, praying that not a bobby pin or hat would fall out of place.

"The fair is always so exciting," Edith marveled as they watched the workers setting up various tents.

"And it only comes every few years or so. It's a bit smaller than I remember," Sybil confessed.

"That's because you've gotten bigger, darling. Everything gets smaller when you've grown a good foot and a half," Mary said. Cora tilted her head and stuck out her bottom lip, sad that her youngest baby was growing so fast. Sybil looked around, fascinated by the multicolored streamers and dangerous-looking rides. They intrigued her, and she wanted to ride all of the rides over and over again.

"Sybil," she heard her mother say from the other side of Mary. Sybil snapped out of her daydream and mumbled, "Yes, Mama?"

Lady Grantham gave her daughter a knowing look. "I know you want to, dear, but it isn't fit for a lady."

Twelve year old Sybil rolled her eyes, but her mother said nothing. "Being a lady is so boring. Why are we so different from men?"

"Why do you ask so many stupid questions all of the time?" Edith retorted blatantly.

Mary drew in a sharp breath. "Why does your hat look like you stole it from the gardener's closet of hand-me-downs?"

"Girls, girls, enough!" Cora snapped. "Now, you three will act like the sophisticated ladies that I know you are, is that understood?" A small chorus of, "Yes, Mama," proceeded, and the girls were silent for most of the walk back to the estate. However, Sybil began to feel uncomfortable. She could not pinpoint exactly what it was, but she could feel it in her lower stomach.

"Lady Sybil, is everything alright?" Anna asked from behind. She had noticed Sybil bending over a bit as they walked. The two eldest Crawley sisters and their mother stopped walking to look at Sybil.

"Oh, dear, you don't look well at all," Lady Grantham said, putting her hand on Sybil's shoulder. "You've gotten very pale."

Sybil shook her head. "No, really, I'm alright, just a stomachache."

Anna felt Sybil's forehead. "It's not a fever, m'lady."

"We're almost back to the house," Mary said, "when we get there, you can go lie down, if you like."

"Yes, and I'll bring up some tea," Anna chimed in.

Sybil thanked them and tried her best to hide the pain she was feeling. It felt as if her lower abdomen was twisting and clenching itself, and all she wanted to do was lie down in the fetal position. However, Sybil was never one to complain, so she said nothing else until they arrived at the house.

"How was your walk, my dear?" Lord Grantham asked after he kissed his wife on the cheek.

"It went well, the fair's coming along nicely. Sybil's having some stomachaches, so she's going to lay down for a bit. Anna's going to get her some tea."

* * *

Sybil heard a knock on the door. Hoping it was Anna with the tea, she uncurled herself from her covers and opened it.

"I just came to check on you," Mary said, smiling. "Are you feeling alright, darling?"

Sybil rolled her eyes and walked back to her bed. She could feel her temper getting shorter and shorter, and all she wanted was to be alone.

Mary followed her inside and sat on the edge of the bed. She was concerned; her sister never behaved like this. "So, how are you feeling?"

Sybil sniffed. "I ruined the whole walk. It was a nice, peaceful afternoon and I ruined it."

Mary chuckled. "On the contrary. I was ready to get away from Edith and from that fair. God only knows how much the fair gets on my nerves." Sybil did not answer her. Mary was concerned; her sister never behaved with such dramatics. "Do you think we should call Dr. Clarkson?"

Sybil shook her head. "No, just let me sleep in peace, Mary."

Mary sighed and got up. _She's behaving just like I do when I'm..._

The eldest Crawley sister's eyes widened. She turned back around. "Sybil, may I ask you something?"

Sybil shrugged, all but her face covered in blankets. She looked miserable.

"Have you been to the restroom since we returned from the walk?"

Sybil sat up and raised an eyebrow. "No. What does this have to do with anything?"

Mary shook her head. "Nothing, nothing. I'll leave you. Feel better, my darling." In return, Sybil grunted and covered her head with her blankets. Mary smiled and closed the door behind her, certain that she knew what was going on with her youngest sister.

* * *

After dinner that night, Lord Grantham sent for his valet to fetch his hat and overcoat. "We're going to the fair," he announced. "Well, your mother and I are, anyway. Would you two like to come along?"

"I would love to," Edith said, trying to contain her excitement.

Mary shook her head politely. "No thank you, Papa. Fairs aren't exactly my favorite."

"Yes, we all know, Mary," Edith scoffed. "It's because you're the most boring person in the world."

"At least I don't repulse every man I see," Mary replied simply, giving her sister a sarcastic smile. The older they got, it seemed, the more distaste they grew towards one another.

"Girls, please," Cora warned the two teenagers. "Anyways, if Mary wants to stay here, she can. Sybil would probably like the company, poor thing. Edith, I'm sure some of your friends from the village will be at the fair, and you can have fun with them."

Edith sighed heavily but followed her parents out the front door. Carson closed it and looked back at Mary. "Just out of curiosity, m'lady, what about the fair do you dislike?"

Mary shrugged, tapping her fingers on the banister in thought. "I'm not sure. Just the atmosphere, I suppose. The noise, the crowds, the games that everyone knows are impossible and yet they still waste their money on. It just doesn't appeal to me."

Carson smiled. "And what will you do in your free time, m'lady?"

"I've begun this wonderful book, and I'm going to use the peace and quiet to my advantage and try to finish it."

"Well," said the butler, heading towards the door that led downstairs, "you musn't keep the library waiting, then."

Mary scurried to the library quickly, closing the door when she got inside. She almost leapt onto the couch and picked up _Romeo and Juliet_, one of the only Shakespeare plays she hadn't read, from the table in front of her. Reading was truly one of the only joys she had; it let her escape from her mother and father's demands and from Edith's...well, just from Edith in general. It helped her escape from Granny's criticism and from her constant need to please everyone. She flipped to her dog-eared page and searched for the line she last left off on. Right now, she was not Lady Mary Crawley; she was Juliet Capulet, devising a plan to finally escape the confines of her large home to be with her true love.

That is, until the door burst open and hit the wall with a loud _thump_.

Mary looked up, initially irritated with whoever was interrupting her alone time. However, all traces of anger were replaced with concern when she saw Sybil's terrified expression.

"What is it, Sybil, is everything alright?"

Sybil's face was pale and she could not seem to speak. "Mary... I think I may be dying."

Mary stood up. "What? Do you want me to send for Mama and Papa? What's going on?" Sybil started to sob and Mary walked over to her, placing a hand on her back. "What's gone wrong? You must tell me, Sybil, I'm getting worried."

Sybil gulped. "I went to the bathroom, and I... there was..."

After Sybil told her older sister what she saw, she expected her to send for Dr. Clarkson right away. However, Mary sighed in relief and then took her sister's hands. Sybil became angry. "How are you not worried? This could be dangerous, Mary, it's never happened before. I could be dying, and you're...you're smiling! This isn't a normal thing..."

"On the contrary, my darling. This happens to every woman. Oh, how I wish Mama had stayed." Mary squeezed both of Sybil's hands. "I'm no good at explaining, and you'd probably be more comfortable with Mama, but the bottom line is, you aren't dying."

"What does this mean?" asked Sybil, flabbergasted. She had never heard of such a thing.

Mary smiled. "It means you're officially a woman. You're all grown up now, I can't believe it. It seems like just yesterday we were playing in the field outside the house with Edith."

Sybil sighed. "Well, it's a relief that I'm not dying."

"That it is."

"But I'm still very confused," she said, and then the two sisters started laughing.

"Never mind that, Mama will explain everything when they return home. In the meantime, I've got some things that will help you be more comfortable."

As they walked up the stairs, Sybil refrained from bombarding her sister with the questions she had; however, she still had one thing on her mind.

"Mary? Does this only happen once?"

Mary laughed out loud. "Don't get too optimistic, dear."

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**A/N: Hahahahaha this was fun. Review please, tell me how you're liking it so far!**


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